<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>a new chapter by perseajackson</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743663">a new chapter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/perseajackson/pseuds/perseajackson'>perseajackson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:14:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/perseajackson/pseuds/perseajackson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>local bookkeeping muggle marcy davies agrees to take in her eight-year-old nephew, kieran, while his parents go into hiding because of a war happening in the secret magic wizarding world.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. beginning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just a collection of blips from kieran living with marcy. probably will not be linear lmao</p>
<p>they live in an old family-owned country home in peaslake, surrey, and marcy works in a bakery in guildford, surrey.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nine days, so far. It had been nine days, and things had been, well… mostly </span>
  <em>
    <span>quiet.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marcy couldn’t tell if Kieran missed Jack and Flo. When his parents had dropped him off on her doorstep, Marcy had been able to tell that things were eating at them, especially Jack; her brother had always been so transparent to her. There’d been a million things he’d wanted to say to Kieran, yet the goodbye was brief and the final words said were, “Auntie Marcy will keep you safe, and Mum and I will keep each other safe. Just be my sweet boy, and look out for our letters, yes? We love you so much, Kie. Promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her little nephew with his ever-grumpy neutral expression had turned to something Marcy couldn’t tell between worry or sadness, but it was subtle. He’d hugged them, Jack slightly longer, and told them he would keep Marcy safe, too, and returned the last sentiment: I love you- promise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thought back to when Jack had phoned her, explaining the war coming to a boil within their secret magical world of wizards and such. She couldn’t deny the way her blood had turned to ice when Jack told her honestly that there were those who would kill him just for having been born to muggle parents. She may not understand much about the magic world nor about the specific hierarchy of blood status among wizards, but she understood prejudice and oppression just fine. And she knew that there were those willing to kill over it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides, taking in Kieran was hardly a chore. He was a weird but sweet kid, and she was more than happy to look after him to help keep himself and Jack and Florence safe. She had the means, she had the space- no problem. She’d always had a fine relationship with him anyway, the both of them could be similarly snarky, and while she loved Elis just the same as she loved Kieran, Elis seemed to be affected much differently by Jack and Flo’s… </span>
  <em>
    <span>relationship problems</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Marcy felt terribly that it seemed to have already jaded the young boy so much, but there was only so much an aunt could do. She felt at ease, though, by the fact that he was safely hidden with his own muggle friend (though it hurt her heart that he was only there in the first place because he’d effectively run away from home).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first morning of Kieran’s stay with her, he seemed back to his normal little self, the worry and sadness of the evening prior seemingly gone from his grumpy-but-soft features. She’d taken a week and a half off of work to help him get adjusted to living with her, but aside from unpacking the small library of books he’d brought (she didn’t feel jealous about being a muggle often, but that </span>
  <em>
    <span>undetectable extension charm</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his backpack was cool as hell), Kieran seemed to adjust just fine right away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, there was the matter of realizing that Kieran </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> used to living in a magical household where apparently things were different enough to warrant a different kind of adjusting for them both, like how apparently back home, dishes would float into cabinets after being washed (she did feel bad at how badly he’d startled himself when the plate he released fell to the floor with a loud shatter). She’d also quickly discovered that things like the microwave and toaster scared Kieran, and the general fact that her nephew seemed very anxious about many things in general, far more than she’d ever really known. Florence had mentioned sending Kieran with a supply of some sort of potion to ease his anxiety if things got bad, and Marcy hoped that Kieran was able to know when “bad” was, because to her, his anxiety was already far above what she figured a little eight year old child should be accustomed to. (She kept the box of potion vials at easy access in the kitchen just in case.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kieran mostly seemed content to do whatever she suggested or prompted, going along more or less with anything (his go-with-the-flow attitude contrasted so much with his tendency to scowl or look disgruntled, which Marcy found extremely amusing) and complying with any request she made of him, save for tasks like retrieving toast from the toaster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d made a whole day of moving furniture around the house and putting whatever furniture he’d wanted up in his room and organizing his books both in his room and in various other places in the house. He’d criticized her lack of books that didn’t have to do with bookkeeping, but he seemed very interested in her collection of cookbooks. She’d made a mental note of spending a day baking with him soon to see how he liked it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regardless, now, on day nine of his stay, he still seemed content and happy enough, as far as she could tell with his enigmatic expressions. She’d become, admittedly, overwhelmed with mixed emotions when he’d very casually and with the most innocent eyes commented over breakfast, “It’s very quiet here, nothing like living at home. It’s very peaceful and nice. I’ve decided I like living here.” While she was overjoyed that he’d come to the decision of enjoying living with her so quickly into his stay, she was very torn up about the implied state of the household Jack had been raising Kieran in. Her thoughts had gone to Elis, too, but she’d just given him a smile and ruffled his hair and told him, “That makes me happy, Kie. I like having you around, makes this old English house less drab and boring.” His little smile was enough to allow her worries to move aside in her mind for the time being.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, another thing Kieran seemed very anxious about was Marcy’s car. After breakfast, she’d suggested going to the market, showing him around town a bit, but he’d shaken his head very quickly and said, “I don’t like being in cars without Elis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… understand that, Kieran, but I can’t aparate like Mum and Dad. And we can’t ask Elis to come all the way here to Peaslake to ride with you when we go places,” she’d told him as gently as she could. He’d scowled at her and dipped his head, but she couldn’t tell if it was in submission or because he was thinking. “How about we do some work outside then for a bit? It’s still early in the day,” she’d said then, sitting across from him at the breakfast nook. “You’ve helped your mum in her garden before, right? Then maybe we can try a short car ride to get lunch?” He’d given her a skeptic-looking scowl that softened with the nod of his head, and she decided to take that as a, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, Aunt Marcy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and go with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While out in the garden, she’d been able to introduce him to her owl, Queenie, who’d landed on the garden fence and stared Kieran down very intently. This, surprisingly, didn’t seem to make Kieran nervous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you had an owl,” he’d said in his little voice, standing up and staring Queenie right back. “She’s a horned owl. They’re native to North America. Where did you get her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Her name’s Queenie. Your dad gave her to me when I moved out here, joking that this old house might not get good phone coverage, so he gifted her to me so I could send him letters if I needed,” she said, a fond smile on her lips as she considered her odd graduation gift. “Thinks he’s funny, your dad. Where’d you learn about owls?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Elis wanted an owl a year ago. I helped him research breeds because Mum didn’t know where to start for one,” Kieran said matter-of-factly. “Why’d you name her Queenie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because she’s haughty as a Royal,” Marcy said, giving him a wide grin as she went over and offered her hand to Queenie. The owl decided she’d sized Kieran up long enough and nuzzled her beak across Marcy’s fingers before flying off to perch above the porch. “Don’t know where your dad got her, but she’s good company. Mae hi'n hoffi byw allan yma, hefyd, dwi'n meddwl. Digon o le i hedfan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kieran hummed, and Marcy wondered if Jack had been keeping up his heritage properly, watching Kieran to see if he’d understood her well enough. He only gave her a brief glance and a shrug before kneeling back down to water the plants at his feet. She was already drafting an angry letter of full Welsh in her head to send to Jack immediately when Kieran said quietly, “Mae'n lle tlws i fyw.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her smile widened again, and she gave his hair a ruffle before allowing him to go back to quietly tending to his herb.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Marcy arrived home that evening, she hadn’t expected to find Kieran sitting on the bench in the front garden with his books. She watched his head pop up from the pages of what looked like a textbook in his lap when he noticed her car, and as she pulled up to the house, he stood up quickly and began storming over to her car. A list of things that could possibly have gone wrong began accumulating in her head as she turned the car off and opened her door, but when she looked at her little nephew’s face up close, she realized that his firm expression was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>excited</span>
  </em>
  <span> face. She got her mouth open, but no more than a breath escaped her lips before Kieran held an envelope up to her face with both hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got my letter!” he said, a little loudly and breathlessly. It took Marcy only a second to realize what letter he meant, then felt ridiculous for it because there was only one letter Kieran had been talking about for months now; sure enough, stamped on the back and sealed with fancy, pressed, red wax, was his Hogwarts letter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave him an excited squeal, a noise that made a smile finally breach his lips, and jumped out of the car, picking him up in a big hug that even prompted a quiet laugh from him. “Well it’s about bloody time! You’ve only been checking the post every day for, what, about four months straight now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only two months. Probably more like one and a half,” he said drolly, hugging her back until she released him back with his feet on the ground. Marcy pulled her keys and bag from her car, turning back to Kieran to find him staring in awe at the still-sealed letter in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t opened it yet?” she asked with surprise, realizing the fact that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> still sealed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kieran looked up at her, and she detected just a little nervousness in his green eyes. “I… wanted us to open it together,” he said in a small voice. Marcy forced herself to keep it together, adamantly shoving the tears rushing to well in her eyes back down, and she pulled him against her in another tight hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what are we waiting for, kiddo?” she asked eagerly, and he pulled away with a bigger smile up at her. She looked over to the bench and released him to gesture towards it. “Have you been going through those books out here waiting for me to get home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know if you’d get home early today. I wanted to catch you as soon as you got home,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed and nudged his shoulder with her arm. “Well, go grab your books, and let’s go in and open this letter! I hope they’ve added more flair to it since when your dad got his letter,” she teased, sniffling with emotion when Kieran quirked an eyebrow at her before rushing to collect his literature.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They hurried into the kitchen, both of them depositing their belongings on the dining table, and Marcy hefted Kieran up to sit on the kitchen island, egging him on to open the letter as she stood in front of him with her hands clasped together. He did so with a smile on his face, but carefully enough to make Marcy wonder what all was going through his dashing little head. She longed to ruffle his hair again, but didn’t want to disturb his moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The envelope opened like normal envelopes do, and she remarked on the lack of fanfare, which tickled her since she had been too small to even remember Jack getting his letter. Kieran’s eyes scanned the paper, his eyes widening and the smile on his lips becoming almost bashful, if Marcy didn’t know any better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s it say, what’s it say?” she said eagerly, tapping her hands on his knees obnoxiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It says, ‘Dear Mr. Davies-’,” he began, then looked up at her with quiet excitement and possibly the most happy look in his eyes that she’d ever seen. He leaned towards her a little, and said enthusiastically, “They </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mister!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course they do, kiddo! It’s freaking Hogwarts, the magic school!” she exclaimed, putting her hands firmly on his knees and shaking his legs with a wide grin, laughing when his smile widened too. Her heart idly ached as she recalled the homeschooling group head parent that insisted on referring to Kieran as “</span>
  <em>
    <span>young lady”.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “They know </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> there, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Kieran breathed out, quickly looking back down to the paper with growing energy. “‘We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Professor Filius Flitwick. Deputy Headmaster.’” He looked back up at Marcy, his usually gloomy face now brighter than ever, so much so that she nearly swore he was glowing. Kieran put his hands on her shoulders, his right one still holding his letters firmly, and gave her a little shake. “I’ve got my letter, Aunt Marcy! I’ve got my Hogwarts letter!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was there ever a doubt it’d come?” she asked, laughing as he shook her and stepping forward so she could hug him again, this time picking him up and hearing him laugh as his arms and legs locked around her. “Plenty of impatience, yes, plenty of that- but </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> any doubt, right?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right!” Kieran agreed gladly, and he pressed his face into her shoulder with another laugh as she twirled around a few times chanting that he was going to Hogwarts and getting louder when he joined in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she set him back on the counter, she grabbed his face with her hands and started kissing his cheeks. “My little nephew! My little Kieran Davies! He’s going to become the best wizard ever!” He moaned at her to stop and let him go, though his shy giggles pierced through his mild embarrassment, and she finally released him to give him a devious smirk. “I bet Mum and Dad will take you to Diagon Alley this weekend to start getting your supplies, yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think so?” he asked, his usual quiet tone beginning to take reigns again, though the excitement in his eyes stayed vibrant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll wring ye tad’s neck if he doesn’t!” She held her hand out between them with a serious look, though a smirk still pulling up at her lips. “Honest to heart promise!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kieran smiled again and shook her hand firmly. “You’ll come too, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want me there, I’ll be there,” she promised, pressing a kiss to the top of his hand before releasing him and ruffling his hair, finally. He gave her a softer smile, one she knew was his little communicative looks, and she smoothed his fringe out of his eyes after disheveling it. “We’ll have an exciting dinner tonight then, yes? Anything you want! We can go up to Guildford, or anywhere in Peaslake- you name it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His decision of buying pint ice cream and takeaway pizza to enjoy in front of the VCR was, Marcy thought, the perfect Kieran-type celebration, and she was warmed from head to toe by the smile that lingered on her little nephew’s lips for the remainder of the day. She decided she rather liked seeing him so smiley and hoped silently that this new chapter of his life, going to this school where he so belonged and had yearned for for years, would bring about more smiling days for him. She felt, not for the first time, an emotional weight of gratitude to still have Kieran living with her. What a little light in her life he’d become.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>